“Keep your waving to other campers only.”
“Oh!” Beatrice chuckled. “Is that a thing you have between you all? Like a club?”
“And what if it is?”
“Nothing.” Beatrice looked out of the window to hide her smirk, not wishing to offend Sydney too much.
“Come on, old girl.”
Beatrice turned to her, dropping her sunglasses down her nose. “I thought we were beyond insults, Sydney.”
Sydney shot a look of horror at Beatrice. “Oh, I was talking to Gertie.”
Another smirk edged its way onto Beatrice’s lips. “It’s a ridiculous notion, naming a car.”
“Says the woman who has a car named Dawn.”
“I have a Rolls-Royce Dawn; she is not named Dawn.” Beatrice sniffed out a light laugh and changed the subject. “So, will this new engine sound like it’s fuelled by petrol rather than gravel?”
“I hope so, or we’ll have to send her to the knacker’s yard.”
“Or the local poultry farm,” Beatrice whispered.
“I heard that.”
“You were meant to.”
Beatrice admired the photogenic view of the harbour as they pulled up beside a house an hour later. The late morning sun was glistening on the sea, and the seagulls screeched overhead.
“This is us,” Sydney said, switching off the engine.
“Wow, this is… something.”
Sydney jumped out. “I’ll come around and help you down.”
A man appeared from a workshop and approached Sydney. Beatrice eyed them as they embraced each other. Was this a love interest? A pang of jealousy hit her square in the stomach. She needed to stop these feelings before they ran out of control.
As if finally remembering her existence, Sydney opened her door and assisted her to the ground.
The man approached them. “Hi, I’m Sam.”
“Beatrice. It’s nice to meet a friend of Sydney’s. You can tell a lot about someone by the company they keep.”
“Or don’t keep,” Sydney snarked back.
“Touché.”
“So here she is, Sam. Ready for surgery,” Sydney said, giving Gertie a light tap. “Be gentle with her.”
“Of course, there is no other way to treat her.”
Beatrice sniggered behind her hand. “Not you as well.”
“Sorry, Sam. Beatrice thinks it’s funny that we call her Gertie and refer to her as she.”
“Oh, yes, I suppose it is a bit strange,” Sam said, running his hand over Gertie’s paintwork. “Gertie’s like a member of the family, aren’t you, girl?”
“Why don’t you reach down and give her a tickle under the chin?” Beatrice scoffed, unable to contain herself any longer as she burst into a fit of giggles, only to be met with two pairs of raised eyebrows.